


Just Because

by badcircuit



Series: Things that Never Happened [7]
Category: Actor RPF, American Actor RPF, Chris Evans Fandom
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, RPF, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 08:04:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8437846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badcircuit/pseuds/badcircuit
Summary: Chris Evans gives a sassy brat what she's asking for.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [disturbedbydesign](https://archiveofourown.org/users/disturbedbydesign/gifts).



> A belated birthday gift for disturbedbydesign. Not beta'd.

"Come in here," he says, without looking up from his desk. 

She does her best not to disturb him while he's memorizing scripts but she keeps thinking of things that she needs.  The only way to get them is to walk by his office door, which is six-panel glass.  It's not her fault that he didn't listen when she told him not to position his desk right in front it.  It may have been her fault that the only thing she had on was one of his button-downs and some tiny pink panties.  Opening the door, she goes to stand in front of the desk and tries to look innocent.

"You're very distracting," he says, his eyes on her naked thighs. 

"I'm sorry, really.  I just—"  She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, the intensity of his stare making heat bloom between her legs.

"No, you're not," he interrupts.  His eyes travel up, lingering on the top button of the shirt, which is straining to keep her braless boobs contained.

The look on his face is the one he gets when she's about to catch the best kind of hell.

He stands slowly, and the sound of the chair scraping the floor as he pushes it back seems especially long and loud.  It raises goose bumps and makes her blood suddenly feel too thick for her veins.

"I-I  was being quiet," she stammers.  "I just needed a few things that couldn't wait."

"Let's see what couldn't wait," he says, holding out his hand and wiggling his fingers.

He smirks at the tangerine and the crumpled napkin she surrenders.  Setting it aside, he marks his page in the script with a sticky note, closes it, and puts it away in the top drawer.  Everything else that's sitting on the desktop gets methodically removed, until the gleaming oak surface is empty.

He clasps his hand together loosely and gives her The Look:  slightly furrowed brow, his blue eyes limpid, his luscious lips just barely pursed.  It's the perfect mix of disappointed and pissed.  She likes to call it the pre-spanking face.

"I've got something for you that can't wait.  Let's see how quiet you'll be now."  He pats the desktop like he would the sofa cushion for her to come sit next to him on movie night.  "Bend over, hands flat on the desk."

He lingers behind her for what feels like a long time, not touching, just watching.  Anticipation is crackling in the air, sensitizing her skin so that the soft, well-worn shirt begins to feel like burlap.  When he moves closer and flips it up to bare her panties, she gasps and clutches at the desk to keep from melting to the floor.

"I like the way you arched your back when I did that," he says, running a hand along it, lightly skimming over her butt.  "Offering me that ass like a good girl.  Or a bad girl."  Laughing softly, he gives it rough squeeze.  "You ready for this?"

"What if I say no?" she says, unable to resist taunting him.  Looking back over her shoulder, she sees that he's pushed one sleeve of his sweater up and is paused in the middle of doing the other one.  His bare forearms are a wonder, even when he's not in Cap shape, and he's nearly in top Cap shape right now.  He finishes and takes a step back, rubbing his hands together slowly, which makes his pecs  and biceps pop under the clingy blue material.

"Then I'll give you all the time you need to think about what you did.  Naked and on your knees in that corner over there," he says, pointing.  "With a blindfold, of course, so you can focus."  He gives her a kind smile, the one that says see how generous and fair I am, even for a brat like you?

"Of course," she murmurs.  She's been in that corner plenty of times before, stripped down and contemplating her many transgressions and not regretting a single one, the waiting almost as unbearably lovely as the punishment itself.  She squirms and he lays a hand on her back, a silent order to be still .  She's not in the mood for waiting.  "I'm ready."

He makes a sound as he peels her panties down and sees her pussy, puffy and wet .  "So I see."  He leans over her—lets her feel the heat of his big body without actually touching her yet—and whispers in her ear.  "Dirty girl.  That's what you are."

"Yes," she agrees, turning her head to press a hot cheek against the cool wood.  "Do it.  Punish me."

He laughs and she can hear him shifting around and knows he's finding the right angle to swing.  "Listen to Miss fuckin' Bossy Boots, givin' orders."  The way his Boston accent comes out stronger when he's tired or turned on and how he gets all sweary never fails to flip her switch and a moan slips out.  "I was gonna give you fifteen but let's make it an even twenty.  Unless you punk out on me." 

He means their safe word, which he insists they always use.  Even when he's being a bastard, he's still a gentleman.

"Quit talking and just do it."

"Smart ass."  He inhales slowly, lets it out slower, and she can hear how excited he is by the shakiness of his breath.  When his hand comes down—crack crack crack crack—across the fattest part of her ass, they both let out gasps. 

He alternates butt cheeks on the next four, the same easy pace but just a little harder.  Her ass is pleasantly warm and she's able to keep silent.  If he wants her screaming, he's going to have to do better than that. 

The next four land in the same spot as the last four, turning the warmth into a tingle and she has to grit her teeth to stay quiet. 

She braces herself for the next round but the speed and intensity of the swats work a moan out of her.  Predictably, he laughs.  "Now we're gettin' somewhere.  Four more to go."

He makes them count, too, laying them on hard and heavy, right where ass meets upper thigh.  She lets out a little open-mouthed cry on each one, rising on tip-toe to rock back into them.

"Keep going," she says, caught up in the sound and rhythm and heat of it, needing to push him just a bit farther.

"Fuck."  He only gets in a few more before the tingling turns to burning.  Suddenly, she's being flipped over onto her back and he's fumbling to get his jeans open.  She only has a moment to silently congratulate herself for making him lose his shit before he's thrusting into her hard and fast.  "You're so fuckin' wet for me."

"Yes," and then "Yesss," as he bends down to suck and bite her nipples through the soft cotton of his shirt.

Leaning back again, he grabs her knees and pushes her legs back toward her body, opening her wider.  "You gonna come?" he pants.  "Do it.  Make yourself fuckin' come all over me."

Their eyes are both focused on where her hand is working and where he's pounding in and out of her.  His hips slap against her tender ass on every stroke.  So close, so close, and then she's flying, reaching up to pull his mouth down to hers.  She loves how noisy he is when he fucks but especially when he comes, moaning and calling her name so loud there's no way the neighbors haven't heard.

"You little shit" he says, passing her the tissue while he tries to put himself back together.  "You always do that."  He tries to look annoyed but he fucking loves it.

Hopping down off the desk, she pulls her panties back on, gingerly rubbing her sore bum.  "And you always fall for it," she says, blowing him a kiss as she slips out of the office to let him get back to work.


End file.
